Arnald seemed genuinely surprised at the question. Byletta could only stare at him, quietly questioning his intelligence.
The girl’s cheeks had been bright red as she’d gazed at him with a passionate stare. Although…this was Arnald. He didn’t take an interest in other people.
“I’m sorry for making you wait, by the way. Are you hurt?”
“I’d only just intervened, so I’m fine. And you came as quick as you could.”
“I’m glad I arrived in time. I’ve heard some troubling tales concerning the behavior of some of the returning soldiers. Hopefully it’s just those two.”
“That won’t put you in any danger, will it?”
Byletta had read in the imperial newspaper that lately some of the returnees from the war had been starting trouble with civilians. Despite the victorious mood that surrounded the capital, there seemed to be an invisible discontent simmering away underneath.
Arnald simply blinked at her absent-minded question.
“Wh-what…?” Byletta stammered.
“It’s not a bad thing to have your wife worry about you. I actually thought you resented me.”
“‘Resent’…is a strong word…”
If asked whether she loved or hated Arnald, Byletta wouldn’t choose hate. Her feelings of resentment weren’t that strong.
Even though he’d abandoned her for eight years, trampled over her rights, and proposed that ludicrous wager before taking her body for himself, for some reason, her emotions had never run as dark as resentment or hatred.
But then again, Byletta had never resented or hated anyone before.
“Where are we headed next, then?” Arnald asked with a smile.
Byletta froze. What did he mean “next”?!
Oh, come now. She was done. She’d had enough.
Still, despite her vigorous internal protests, outwardly, all Byletta could manage was a feeble smile.
Upon arriving back at the Swangan residence, Byletta was so exhausted she felt dizzy. In the end, after leaving the jewelers, they’d wandered around the shopping district before partaking in a late lunch. It was only then that Arnald had seemed satisfied and agreed to head home. Why had she even needed his permission to return to the manor anyway? She was supposed to be the one dragging him along.
By the time they had arrived back home, the sun was already hanging low in the sky.
Unlike the tired-looking Byletta, Arnald had kept a smile on his face the entire time. She’d thought he was just keeping it up for appearances’ sake, but when they ran into the butler, Donovan, his reaction suggested that might not be the case.
“Y-young lord… H-has something happened…?”
“What do you mean?”
“The corners of your mouth are turned upward. I’ve never seen you make such an expression, even as a child…”
His reluctance to use the word “smile” made Arnald’s usual apathy seem even more apparent. She understood what was happening was an anomaly, but she wished that her husband would take his grinning face somewhere else. Always having something to say but never being able to say it out loud had just added to her exhaustion.
“Oh. You’re back…together.”
Byletta’s mother-in-law, Cynthia, wore an awkward smile as she approached the front door.
She gave Byletta a sympathetic look. Cynthia had known from the beginning just how much Byletta wanted to divorce Arnald and leave the Swangan manor and had been very supportive of her. She was an extremely dutiful woman who seemed grateful that Byletta had saved her from the count’s tyranny. She’d even been helping to persuade Count Swangan into letting Byletta leave. Yet all that effort had been for naught.
Byletta felt apologetic that, in half a month, everything would be resolved and she’d be able to depart without any further ado.
“We just arrived home, Mother. Is Milena back yet?”
“Yes, she’s in her room.”
“Husband, I must go and see Milena immediately. Thank you very much for accompanying me today.”
“Did you at least enjoy yourself somewhat?”
“Of course I did.”
As if I could enjoy nervously waiting for a devil to bare its face, she thought. Or shuddering beside a husband with an unfamiliar smile. Or even killing time by looking at products I didn’t even want and dining on the blandest, grittiest lunch I’ve ever eaten.
Everything had been far too lofty for her tastes, so she hadn’t been able to enjoy any of it. She’d worn a smile for show only. Now, even exhausted as she was, she couldn’t even tell anyone her vision was going fuzzy.
Byletta didn’t really understand why she felt that way, beyond that she had a certain pride as a woman.
What she did know was that she was at her limit, and she was determined to take a breather. Her heart needed a rest.
Before she could be reined in again, Byletta took the souvenir she’d purchased in town and hurried to Milena’s room.
Three days after Byletta’s shopping trip with Arnald, the time for the victory celebration arrived. Luckily, the dress she’d ordered arrived on time without any major issues.
Arnald had been following her everywhere, always looking to make a move if the opportunity presented itself. If it was just a peck on the lips or a light touch, Byletta could turn a blind eye, but when it progressed to a hand slipping inside her underwear, there was nothing she could do but let him.
Given that Arnald hadn’t laid a finger on her during their entire stay at the Swangan country estate, she wasn’t entirely sure what had brought about this turn of events. Perhaps it was just how men were, though she could concede it might be something else. Regardless, it wasn’t pleasant for her to deal with.
As Byletta and Arnald rode their carriage to the victory celebration, she reached over and pinched his hand. He jerked it away from her, but when he spoke, it was with an aloof tone. He seemed very confident that he was doing nothing wrong.
“You remember you signed a contract that states we have to act like husband and wife for a month, don’t you?”
“I do, but it’s annoying how persistent you are at night.”
“I’ve heard it’s common for newlyweds.”
“We’ve been married for eight years. Newlyweds. Don’t make me laugh.”